


Make a Terrible Boy

by akire_yta



Category: Bandom, Jonas Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:48:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4817402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew he should just tell Mike about this; they were married now, and it wasn't a big thing as such, really, just <i>different</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make a Terrible Boy

**Author's Note:**

> For the ‘crossdressing’ square of sodamnskippy bingo, though it ended up being more ‘fucking in high heels’ than anything. Title from Mindless Self Indulgence’s “Golden I."

Kevin leaned forward and investigated the bottom of the carton of egg foo young and tried to ignore the fact that their house was full of boxes, nearly all of them still unopened.

Next to him, Mike tossed down his chopsticks on the big box labeled “other stuff” that was serving as a table, stretched and groaned. “Next time, we're totally asking for our friends to pack and unpack as their wedding present.”

Kevin sighed and sat back, belly full to bursting, and Mike's arm dropped automatically down around Kevin's shoulders. On his ring finger, the silvery band gleamed, shiny and new. Kevin smiled, even as he fidgeted with his own ring, smoother and wider than his old one. “Ready to do some more unpacking?” he asked.

Mike groaned and half-curled into Kevin's side. “Please, dear god, no more,” he mock-whimpered. “I'll do anything, just make the unpacking stop.” Kevin grinned and didn't even try resisting the urge to run his fingers down Mike's ticklish sides. Mike was laughing as he flopped backwards, eyes bright as he grinned at Kevin. “Evil man!” he laughed as he pointed a finger at Kevin. “You could at least wait until we've finished all that damn wedding cake before your start in on the spousal abuse.”

Kevin grinned back as he levered himself off their couch and gathered up the empty take-out containers. “Not my fault you're ridiculously ticklish.”

“And adorable,” Mike shot back teasingly. 

“That too,” Kevin agreed amiably as he went to take out the trash. When he came back, the sofa was empty, and Kevin could hear Mike singing along to a CD in the music room. He stuck his head around the door and smiled at the emerging sense of order. The kitchen may still be in boxes, but at least the music stuff was nearly unpacked. “Cake?”

Mike groaned and shook his head. “Fuck, seriously, can we get a dog so we can feed it to him or something?” he asked. He held up two CDs. “Also, like, a quarter of our CD collections are the same.”

Kevin shrug. “Make a pile, I think Frankie had his eye on some of them, and Joe's taste in music always needs improving.” Mike laughed and didn't disagree.

Kevin licked his lips, tasting the faint salty tang of soy sauce. “I'll be in the bedroom if you need me.”

The bed was already made up; Kevin had moved too many times in his life not to know that trick. Leaning back to check that he could still hear Mike in the music room, Kevin crept over and cautiously peeled back the tape on the box he had marked especially.

He knew he should just tell Mike about this; they were married now, and it wasn't a big thing as such, really, just different.

He'd been telling himself the same thing for months now.

He pulled out the first of the smaller boxes within the larger packing box with something approaching the reverence most people thought he reserved solely for his guitars. Inside, nestled in folds of soft tissue paper, were his first and still his favourites. He smiled and closed the box again, and continued to pluck out the half dozen other similar boxes.

“Kevin?”

Kevin whipped around too quickly, smiling awkwardly at Mike as he lounged in the doorway. “Hey. Done with the CDs?” he asked disingenuously.

He shrugged. “I got bored.” He pushed off the door frame and wandered over to perch on the end of their bed. “Whatcha doing?” he asked, voice deceptively light.

Kevin took a deep breath. “Um, unpacking my shoes.” He sat, frozen, as Mike scooped up one of the boxes and flipped open the lid. His expression didn't change as he pulled out the slim-heeled dark patent leather pump. He held it up to the light, turning his wrist to examine the shoe from every angle before he looked down at Kevin, one eyebrow raised.

Kevin squirmed a little. “I like...I mean, I just think they're...nice,” he finished lamely.

“Nice,” Mike said flatly, face unreadable. “To wear?”

Kevin tried not wince. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “Sometimes. Not out,” he added hurriedly. “Just, y’know, at home.”

Mike was staring at the shoe again, but Kevin recognized the look of Mike’s mind working hard and stayed silent. “Just shoes?” he asked, his eyes raking over Kevin’s plain black sweats and old shirt he’d stolen off Mike years ago.

Kevin rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, just shoes,” he said as patiently as he could. “I don’t have any frilly panties in another box or anything.”

For a split second, Mike looked almost disappointed. “Why high heels?” he asked, like he was making a mental list.

Kevin shrugged and sat back. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I just find them pretty, and I like how I feel when I wear them.” He licked his lips and thought for a moment at Mike’s silent invitation to elaborate. “Taller,” he said, ducking his head as Mike grinned. “Shut up,” he muttered, fighting down a grin of his own. “A couple of inches can make all the difference.” He sobered. “Plus they...it’s hard to describe, they do things to your posture.” He waved his hands futilely in the air, trying to describe that moment when your chest was pushed up and your shoulders fell back and you just felt...powerful.

Mike nodded, turning the pump over and over in his hands.

“I like being a boy,” Kevin felt he had to clarify. “I just like wearing heels too.” He sat forward earnestly. “Did you know high heels were invented by the Royal Navy, for officers to wear so they’d seem more imposing to their crews.”

Mike’s face split into a delighted grin. “Why am I not surprised you know that?” He ran his thumb along the clean edge of the sole, following the arch down to the rounded toe. “Would you let me see you wear them?” he asked softly.

Something in Kevin’s chest unknotted. He nodded without speaking, and when Mike didn’t move, Kevin took a deep breath and leaned back, hands digging into the carpet for balance as he extended one bare foot and pushed it gently into Mike’s lap.

Mike’s lips parted in a silent ‘o’ of surprise, but his hands were gentle as they cradled Kevin’s foot, fingers running over the curve of his arches, palms brushing the length of his toes before he gently held Kevin’s ankle and slid the shoe on, taking care with the fit. Kevin arched his back and made a show of swinging his leg down and raising his other foot for the same treatment.

Mike was staring at Kevin as Kevin brought his feet down, sitting on the floor, arms behind him, knees up, muscles tight as the high heels affected his balance, the normal splay of his limbs. Kevin let Mike drink his fill, feeling the warmth in his belly spread as he saw the now-familiar look of hunger in Mike’s eyes. Slowly, never taking his eyes off Mike’s face, Kevin extended one leg up, bending just the knee until his toes were pointed at the ceiling. It should have been dorky, high heels and black sweatpants, but Mike wasn’t laughing.

Mike made a low, growling noise and pounced. Kevin laughed, his flailing arm knocking over boxes as Mike straddled his hips and cupped Kevin’s head, cradling Kevin as he kissed him senseless. Kevin was breathless and panting by the time Mike let him go. “Bed,” he whispered.

Mike nodded, eyes huge and dark, as he stood up over Kevin and held out his hands. Kevin felt his pelvis tilt up at a sharp angle as he got the heels flat on the floor before taking Mike’s hand. Mike hauled him up so fast Kevin swayed for a moment, but Mike caught him against his chest and held on until Kevin had his balance once more.

“Hey,” Kevin said, flushed and smiling.

Mike’s hand slid down, until his arms were looped around Kevin’s hips. “You are taller,” Mike said, sounding delighted.

Kevin took advantage of this fact to press a hard kiss onto Mike’s mouth, almost purring when Mike nipped his lip back in return. Without breaking the kiss they waltzed each other over until the back of Kevin’s knees hit the edge of the mattress. Mike put his hand on the middle of Kevin’s chest and pushed just hard enough for Kevin to let himself fall back freely, arms flung wide.

Mike crawled up after him, once again coming to rest astride Kevin’s hips. They made out like that, lazy and easy, familiar with each others’ touch.

Kevin arched up as Mike pushed Kevin’s arms into the mattress above his head, squeezing for a second to make Kevin stay like that as he slithered down the bed to tug off the loose fitting sweats. Kevin heard the soft thud of the pumps hitting the ground, and wriggled his toes as Mike tugged his pants clear.

He wasn’t expecting it, though, when Mike caught Kevin’s knee and tugged his leg back up. Kevin forced himself to stay still and pliable under Mike’s touch as the shoes were slipped back on. “Yeah?” Mike asked, hands warm and strong on Kevin’s thighs.

“Yeah,” Kevin whispered hoarsely, stretching out to wrap his legs around Mike’s waist, pulling him back in. The spike of the heels interlocking made him arch his back, pulling against the different leverage.

Kevin wondered if this would ever get old, the feel of hot skin and the press of Mike’s weight and the gentle way Mike brushed the hair out of Kevin’s eyes as they moved together, slow and easy, each touch sure and gentle. Mike caught his hands around Kevin’s thighs and pulled them higher, twisting Kevin up into him, lining them up. Kevin closed his eyes as he felt the smear of precome, the pressure and heat as they moved faster, sliding against each other. Kevin knew his heels were dragging slightly on Mike’s back, but it just seemed to urge his husband on. Kevin opened his eyes as Mike gasped, and the sight was enough to send Kevin tumbling over after him.

Kevin relaxed, his thighs slipping back down Mike’s sides to flop bonelessly on the mattress, the heel of the shoe clicking against the base of the bed. Mike half-collapsed onto him, rolling slightly until he was pressed into Kevin’s side, nuzzling into to press a gentle kiss to Kevin’s jaw. “Better than unpacking boxes, huh?” Kevin said softly and Mike laughed in his ear.

“Yup,” Mike agreed. He rolled his neck, brushing his five o’clock shadow against Kevin’s shoulder. 

Kevin stretched out his legs. The left shoe dropped off and hit the floor with a muted thud, and Kevin had to arch his foot to keep the right shoe from following its partner. The black leather caught the lamp light as it dangled off his toes. Mike’s breath was hot and wet as he leaned into whisper into Kevin’s ear. “You totally have the legs for them.”

“A little hairy, though,” Kevin said ruefully, letting the heel swing a little.

Mike perked up. “Have you ever shaved your legs?” he asked, openly curious now.

“Once,” Kevin admitted, making a face. “The itching was torture as it grew back.”

Mike laughed and Kevin twitched his ankle, making the shoe swing and fall. “Come on,” he said fondly, snatching up Mike’s old t-shirt from the end of the bed to clean up the worst of the mess. Mike made a face but didn’t protest as Kevin chivvied him up the bed and rolled them both under the covers.


End file.
